Hermione Potter? Hermione Weasley
by itsLisey
Summary: “I do love you, you know.” She steps a little closer to Harry, her hand outstretching and touching his shoulder lightly.


**This is for both Ron/Hermione shippers and H/Hr. Personally, I hate the idea of Harry and Hermione, but I love Ron and Hermione. This idea came in my head a few minutes ago so I penned it out. Enjoy. **** Review please.**

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Secrecy; it's difficult in a world full of magic. How do you lie when there are potions that force you to tell the truth? Harry Potter, a young wizard of thirteen, knows the dangers of the Wizarding world. He knows the threats that lurk around each corner. Hermione Granger, one of Harry Potter's best friends, knows these dangers as well. They also both know the difficulty in which keeping a secret is.

The night is old, the clock striking midnight nearly ten minutes before, and Harry is peering around the corner. There sits Hermione at a window, watching with great concentration a sleeping Ron on the couch. Hermione and him, they have been dating for a week now. Although, dating is a word in which neither of them have uttered out loud. It was a quiet night. Ron had gone to sleep hours before, as usual, and Hermione and Harry sat awake. Hermione told Harry how she had never yet been kissed. Harry admitted that he too had never kissed a girl. And together, unanimously, they agreed that they should be each other's first kiss. From there, it was a kiss here, and a kiss there, but it was always awkward, and sometimes strained.

"Oh Ron," Harry heard Hermione say. "If you'd just believe me that my cat didn't eat your stupid rat. You're such an idiot, sometimes." Harry laughed to himself. "I can't help but still be your friend, though." She's whispering, so Ron doesn't wake up. "I can't help but have feelings for you." She says this even quieter, and Harry barely hears her. What surprises Harry most, however, is that it doesn't sting him as she says it. He has always known that Hermione and Ron had something. Hermione sighs and flicks her wand in the air, casting purple flickering letters around the room. First, she spells out Hermione Potter. The letters are weak in light and glow. She flicks her wand again, and the words vanish, and slowly she writes Hermione Weasley in the air. The letters are very different, with more twists and curls of the letters, and they glow a bright red. He nods, knowing exactly what it means.

Harry reveals himself and she fumbles with her wand to clear the letters. She looks shocked, stunned, and embarrassed. Harry frowns and walks over to her, but far enough to where his back is turned.

"Harry?" Hermione says quietly. "Harry, _please._"

"I'm not mad." Harry says, his back still turned away from the bushy haired brunette Witch. Her teeth bite into her bottom lip, and she plays with a loose thread on her grey knitted sweater. "Really, Hermione. The idea was stupid to begin with."

"I do love you, you know." She steps a little closer to Harry, her hand outstretching and touching his shoulder lightly. He flinches, and then moves away towards the couch. The common room is empty. It is a cold winter evening at Hogwarts, the frost painting the windows with a thin layer of white. Hermione takes a seat next to Harry, but far enough away that they're not touching. "I love you like a brother. That's not maybe what you want to hear…"

"No, actually." Harry pauses. "I think it is."

"Really?"

Harry nods and picks up the marauders map, flipping through the many blank folds. The two are a mere thirteen, but together, have done more than many at their young age.

"It's not supposed to be me," Harry stops to look at his friend. "I see the way you look at Ron, Hermione." Her cheeks turn a faint pink.

"I don't-"

"I was under the cloak," he shuffles his feet against the floor. "And I saw you two, by the shrieking shack. Before I started throwing snowballs at Malfoy, I saw you. Hermione, it should be him." Hermione leans forward, lingers a moment, and places a small, quick kiss on Harry's cheek. The sign of affection between siblings, and that is all there is.

"You're a great Wizard, you know." Hermione smiles. "An even better friend."

"I remember you saying something similar to that before I went and saw Quirrel. Am I going to meet my doom soon?"

"I'm not sure. Have you seen the grim recently?" They both laugh. Harry takes her hand in his and looks at her palm.

"I haven't tried my hand in Divination in a while, should I practice?"

"You could practice all the time, but you'd still be rubbish at it. It's a load of garbage, if you ask me. It's not _real._"

"Just let me try," he insists, tracing the lines of her hand. "I see… red."

"Red?"

"Yes, red. I see red, and freckles."

"Oh, Harry." She whisks her hand away and sits on it. "I'm _not _in love with Ronald."

"Say that again in a few years,"

"You don't know everything."

"No," he admits. "But I think I know my best friend. I know you, Hermione. And I know him."

"Do not," she huffs.

"I think you'll have lovely children. Red, busy hair, with pale skin and your brown eyes." Hermione's entire face turns a deep shade of red and she buries her head in a pillow. Harry laughs and picks the pillow up and tosses it across the room. "Yeah, I like this relationship much better. Brother and sister?"

"Brother and sister." Hermione smiles. They shake hands, both of them laughing at the idea that they even tried a relationship.

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**Review?**


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